


Puppy Love Never Pays

by sawbones



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, M/M, Miscommunication, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawbones/pseuds/sawbones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lieutenants have a crush on their captains, but their attempts at love on the battlefield prove (mostly) futile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Love Never Pays

**Author's Note:**

> Written for anon, who requested unrequited Grif/Bitters on tumblr. I got a little carried away.

**GOLD SQUAD**

Bitters threw open another drawer and began rifling through the clothes inside, not giving a damn about what he spilled all over the floor. He dragged out unironed fatigues and threadbare t-shirts, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder as he searched.  Finding nothing, Bitters cursed and slammed the drawer shut again. He glanced around the room for somewhere he hadn’t ransacked yet and spied a battered footlocker peeking out from under an unmade bunk. He dropped to his knees and was relieved but unsurprised to find it unlocked.

He wet his lips in anticipation as he dragged it from under the bunk and slowly lifted the heavy lid, and was rewarded by a treasure trove of what he was desperately seeking: underwear. Boxers mostly, which was unexpected because Bitters because he had always pinned Grif as a briefs kind of guy. He bathed in the soft golden glow of the underwear, playfully ran his hands over the neatly folded little piles and—

Bitters froze. Folded? His heart sank as he snatched up a pair and buried his face in them, breathing deeply— and smelling only lavender and camomile.

“ _Simmons_ ,” Bitters hissed in disgust. He should have known better than to think he wouldn’t get in the way of his plan like he got in the way of everything else. He couldn’t even steal some worn underwear to jerk off into without him ruining everything. Bitters was so busy moping on the floor that he almost missed the door handle turning, leaving him barely enough time to jump to his feet and hide his meagre prize behind his back.

“Bitters!” Grif gasped, his mismatched face twisting from disbelief into rage as he saw what Bitters had done to his room, “You piece of shit,  _you’re_  the one that’s been stealing from my snack-stash!”

“It’s not like losing a few cakes will do you any harm,” Bitter said with a carefully practiced casual shrug that disguised his growing panic. Grif began to slowly advance towards him, seething.

“We’re team-mates. I trusted you. I nearly thought you were cool,” he said, and Bitters took a step backwards, “What’s in your hand? It better not be my Reece’s Pieces, I swear to god!”

The colour drained from Bitters’ face. He kept his mouth shut and his hand behind his back as Grif slowly rounded on him. The look of betrayal on his Captain’s face almost made him feel bad; he had never meant to upset him, he was just looking for some fun and maybe a little something to help him through those lonely New Republic nights. Bitters considered his options carefully and decided he didn’t really want to get his ass kicked over some Twinkies he hadn’t even touched. With reflexes that took even himself by surprise, he sidestepped Grif, leapt into the bunk and springboarded out of the still open door, his momentum carrying him heavily into the opposite wall. He was already half way down the corridor, golden boxers streaming from his hand like a banner, before Grif knew what had happened.

**RED SQUAD**

_Mechanical Monthly_ was sent cartwheeling across the room when Katie heard her laptop chirp urgently. She flipped onto her stomach and grabbed it from the floor beside her bed, kicking her feet happily as the screen blinked at her. Her fingers flew across the keyboard and there was a tinny electronic sound of glass breaking and screeching metal over a powerful guitar solo.

_WELCOME TO BLOODBASH 3000_

_mr_maroon HAS ACCEPTED YOUR FRIEND REQUEST_

_mr_maroon IS NOW ONLINE_

She pushed up her glasses with her pinkie and bit her lip. ‘mr_maroon”, oh that was so _clever_.

_mr_maroon SAID: Um, who is this?_

_Jenny_Penny SAID: hiii!_

_Jenny_Penny SAID: just a fan :P I saw your score on the leaderboard it’s amazingggg_

_mr_maroon SAID: It’s pretty good but it’s not my best. I’m probably the best BB3K player this side of Mars._

_Jenny_Penny SAID: i can believe that. the way you eviscerate spacegoblins gets me pretty hot ;)_

_mr_maroon SAID: Spacegoblins aren’t the only thing I can eviscerate if you catch my drift._

_Jenny_Penny SAID: what_

_mr_maroon SAID: …_

_mr_maroon SAID: ASL?_

Katie scrunched her nose with a snort of laughter, coyly picking at the threads on her pillow. Such a flirt, no wonder he had an all-female squad.

_Jenny_Penny SAID: 25/f/room 242 unit b_

_mr_maroon SAID: uhhh f?_

_mr_maroon SAID: Room 242?_

_mr_maroon SAID: Wait_

_mr_maroon SAID: Jensen?!?_

_mr_maroon SAID: What the fuck, how did you even find me?_

_Jenny_Penny SAID: i paid captain grif 20 bucks and a hotdog to put a keylogger on your laptop_

_mr_maroon SAID: Why would you even do that??_

_Jenny_Penny SENT FILE:  totallynude.jpg_

_mr_maroon IS OFFLINE_

_mr_maroon IS NO LONGER ON YOUR FRIEND LIST_

_THE ACCOUNT mr_maroon IS NO LONGER ACTIVE_

**BLUE SQUAD**

It was a beautiful mild night at the New Republic base; the stars were bright and clear, the moon hung fat and low in the sky, and there was hardly a breath of wind. Smith smiled to himself as he carefully lit the last of the tea lights scattered around the roof top. It was perfect, it was all perfect.

There was a crash from the access hatch, shortly followed by the hatch door itself gracefully sailing across the roof and a blue body tumbling out after it. Smith didn’t so much as flinch, but did offer a steady hand to help Caboose up, “Sir, are you alright?”

“I am here! I’m definitely here. I was told there would be cake?”

“I’m sorry, Captain, I—“ Smith glanced over his shoulder at the impeccably laid out table, and suddenly felt deeply ashamed. He had spent so much time trying to find an authentic bottle of champagne, he had managed to let dessert completely slip him mind – and what was a romantic dinner without dessert? If he was completely honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure he would have been able to afford anything after pawning most of his belongings for fois gras and oysters anyway, “Actually, I was hoping we could talk instead, sir.”

Caboose was silent for a long moment, “And  _then_ we have cake?”

Smith was about to object before it finally clicked – of course Captain Caboose wasn’t talking about an actual cake, it was another one of his genius metaphors. A metaphor for something  _sweet_ after dinner. Smith felt himself flush inside his helmet, and with clumsy fingers he reached up to undo its latches, letting it drop to the floor, “Oh Captain, I didn’t think you’d be so forward.”

“That’s because you shouldn’t ever go backwards,” Caboose said matter-of-factly. He sounded so sure and serious that Smith had butterflies in his stomach like he was a young man all over again. He slid his arms around his Captain’s neck and smiled at his reflection in his visor.

“I know it’s wrong, but these last few weeks have been the most important time of my life,” he said, pressing closer. His heart was racing now, and he felt almost breathless, “You’re so smart and selfless and worldly, I’ve never met someone like you before, Captain Caboose – and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

He closed his eyes and leaned in hopefully, but the closer he got, the further away Caboose moved. He opened his eyes again, blinking in confusion, “Sir?”

“I need an adult,” Caboose said, sounding mildly alarmed as he backed away, “Church said if anyone tried to do stuff from the book with me I should get an adult.”

Smith let his hands fall to his sides, “But sir, you’re the best adult I know!”

“He said I don’t count and neither does Tucker, and I should probably stay away from Donut too for good measure. He said I need a real adult.”

“Oh,” Smith said, his shoulders drooping for a moment before he straightened up again, “No, I understand. You’re completely right, sir. I mean compared to you I still have so much to learn, so much to see and do. Someone like you does need a  _real_ adult.”

Caboose nodded slowly. He pointed at the hole where the hatch used to be, “I’m going to go find one now. I’ll see you tomorrow at drill practice, Smith! Don’t forget to bring the cake! We can have it for breakfast and I promise I won’t invite Grif this time.”

Once he was alone again, Smith leaned against the table and pinched out one of the candles. He sighed heavily but his heart was surprisingly light; even in rejection, Captain Caboose still had so much to teach him.

**GREEN SQUAD**

Tucker was stretched out on the couch, his arms behind his head and his legs propped up on the cushions. He looked like he was napping but Palomo knew better. Every ten minutes or so he would shift or yawn, or reach down to absently scratch at the inch or so of skin peeking beneath his light cotton t-shirt - Palomo knew because he’d been sitting across the room in an armchair staring over the top of a very boring book at that sliver of heaven for the last hour. His mouth was dry but he was _thirsty_ , so he snapped his book shut and dropped it onto the table. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered over to the couch as casually as he could manage with a boner tucked into the waistband of his fatigues. He leaned against the back of it, smiling down at Tucker.

Palomo cleared his throat, “Hey Captain, what’s up?”

“Fuck off, Palomo,” Tucker said without even opening his eyes.

“I was just wondering if I could—“

“No, you can’t. Now fuck _off,_ Palomo. I’m not on duty, go bother someone else.”

Tucker angled himself away, wriggling on to his side. He was clearly done with the conversation before it had even begun, but that wasn’t enough to put Palomo off. He was nothing if not dedicated. He knew his captain was staring at the opposite wall, counting the seconds until he either got pissed enough to snap at him, or he left. _  
_

_—sixteen, seventeen, eightee—_

“Alright! Alright, holy fuck, _what?”_ Tucker finally exploded, twisting off the couch with a nimbleness that always took Palomo by surprise. His pure athleticism was often overlooked but it was so hard to miss when it was right in front of you, all compact muscle and smooth strong lines—“Hello? Earth to Palomo? What could possibly be this important?”

“I— I want to suck your dick.”

His Captain’s handsome face went through several different emotions before he settled for something somewhere between suspicion and curiosity, “Dude, that’s pretty gay.”

 “Well, yeah, I am pretty gay,” Palomo wet his lips, shifted from foot to foot, “Pretty gay for _you,_ Cap—”

Tucker’s fatigues were around his ankles before Palomo could even finish.


End file.
